


Tumblr Prompts

by theskyefalls (emmathecharming)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-19 05:34:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 10,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5955577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmathecharming/pseuds/theskyefalls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is going to be a compilation of various, unrelated prompts I've written on tumblr that all came from the same lists of prompt options with various pairings being represented. These will most likely all be shorter one-shots as they will have been written quickly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: FitzSimmons + “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

Jemma opens her eyes to see a light far brighter than she had expected or wished to find. Her head feels like it’s pounding, like it had been hit by something, _hard_.

“What the hell happened?” Jemma whispers, moving to cover her eyes with her hand in an attempt to banish the latest cause of the pain.

She hears a voice from somewhere to her left and she jumps at first before realizing that it belongs to Fitz. “You fainted… straight into my arms” he says, with a nervous chuckle. “You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

“Oh, _Fitz_ ” Jemma sighs. “I meant what happened before that.”

“Right, ‘f course” he replies matter-of-factly. “That one ‘s a bit trickier.”

“Just start at the beginning, then, and we’ll see what we can do” Jemma huffed as she pushed herself to sit against the lab table she felt next to her.

“’s a good idea. So, you were working at your table, mixin’ some chemicals when I came in. I was on my way over t’ see what you were doing when… Daisy came rushing in. She was yelling about something and between that and me coming up behind you, well it looked like you jumped and spilled a bit of whatever you were pouring. Next thing I know…” he trails off as he joins her on the floor.

“I fainted” Jemma finishes for him.

“Yeah. How, uh, how are you feeling?”

“I have a headache but I’m sure that will fade soon enough.” She pauses at his mumbled agreement but continues when she gets an idea. “However, I’m still a tad confused about something.”

“Yeah?”

“If I fainted into your arms, how exactly did I end up on the floor?”

“Oh, well you see- Daisy was still here and she- and I had to- and so I-”

“It’s alright, Fitz” she laughs, stopping him with a hand on his knee. “It’s just a joke. You don’t really think I’m upset with you, do you?”

“Course not” he laughs, albeit less easily than she had. “Daisy’s really the one to blame here.”

“Right, Daisy. Did you ever give that specialized lock for the lab another shot?”

“I haven’t yet. But I did just find the schematics the other day…” he says pushing himself to his feet.

“Maybe you’d best pull those back out, yeah?”

“Maybe I should” he laughed, reaching his hand down to help her up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Static Quake + “Hey! I was gonna eat that!”

Daisy searches through the fridge in the base kitchen with far more attention to detail than is probably necessary considering how empty it currently is. She pulls the most promising lunch candidates toward the front, a banana, a cup of yogurt, and someone’s (hopefully) forgotten and delicious looking sandwich. 

“So I guess my choices are practically starve or risk pissing someone off” she sighs, standing fully upright again. “What to do” she wonders, tapping her fingers against the still open refrigerator door.

Daisy hears the faint sound of shuffling feet behind and starts to turn around to identify her new companion when they speak.

“I know I’m new here and all, but this seems like a lot of consideration considering how little I’ve seen you cook.”

Lincoln. She’d know that laugh and sarcastic bite anywhere.

“I’m trying to decide if I really want to be an asshole.” She pushes the fridge door closed and turns around to meet his eyes, also noticing the smirk that has taken over the rest of his face.

“So let me get this straight. You actually put thought into that piece of your personality?” He laughs, but Daisy is not amused.

“Hardy har” she sighs. “And the answer is sometimes, when it involves eating their food” she says, leaning on her elbows atop the counter.

“I see. So you do have your limits.”

“You know what?” she laughs dryly. “I’ve just taken back my offer to share whatever I eat with you.”

“Was there actually an offer because I don’t remember hearing that?”

“Well I made it in my head” she quips, turning her attention back to the sparse contents of the fridge.

“Who’s sandwich is it anyway?” Lincoln questions making his way across the kitchen to stand behind her.

“Wish I knew. It’s a lot easier to be a jerk if I at least know who I’m gonna piss off.”

“Remind me never to get on your bad side” Lincoln jokes with a nervous laugh.

“Probably for the best” Daisy smiles back, turning her head over her shoulder to flash him a weak glare.

“So what are you going to do about lunch?” Lincoln sighs as Daisy’s stomach lets out a quiet grumble she can only assume is meant to ask the same question.

“Sounds like I’m going with the sandwich” she laughs in return as she reaches in and pulls it from the top shelf of the fridge. “Sorry to whoever you belonged to” she whispers, sizing it up. 

“You want half?” Daisy asks, looking up at Lincoln after a moment.

“Definitely. I’m starved” he replies turning to make his way to the stools next to the island.

Daisy grabs two plates from one of the cabinets and sits down next to him. She quickly unwraps the sandwich and places each half on a plate before sliding his share over to him.

“Eat quick so we can get out of here before the owner comes for their lunch” Daisy laughs, bringing the sandwich up to take a bite.

“I think we may be too late for that” Lincoln says quietly, finishing his own first bite as he looks toward the hallway.

Daisy looks up and follows his gaze finding Fitz just inside the doorway.

“Hey!” Fitz calls. “I was gonna eat that! Jemma made that sandwich for me.”

Daisy’s eyes shoot over to Lincoln looking for a sign to tell her what to say. He gives her nothing, his eyes unmoving from where they have locked on his half of the evidence.

“Look, Fitz. We’re really sorry” Daisy starts quickly. “You see… there was basically no food and you know I’m useless in the kitchen and well Lincoln was hungry and-”

“Don’t go blaming this on me” Lincoln interrupts.

“Please don’t be mad Fitz. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Fitz takes a deep breath before speaking again. “Oh just finish the thing. You’ve already started.”

“Thank you, Fitz” Daisy says, flashing him a big smile.

“Don’t be too happy. You still have to find a way to make this up to me.” Fitz laughs as he grabs the banana from the fridge and makes his way back to the doorway before heading back out to the lab.

“You should’ve just eaten the banana” Lincoln teases, taking another bite of his half of the sandwich.

“Oh shut up” Daisy grumbles back picking her half back up.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Static Quake + “Teach me how to play?”

Lincoln wakes up to a still dark bunk. He rubs at his eyes, still not used to waking up there. He opens his eyes again and rolls over to check the time. 

7:03 am

“And it’s Saturday. Great” Lincoln sighs, rolling back over and trying to get comfortable enough to go back to sleep.

After a few minutes of tossing and turning, he huffs and pushes himself to his feet.

_Maybe someone else is having the same problem._

He finds a clean shirt and some sweatpants and changes quickly before slowly sliding his door open.

The hallway of the bunk wing is silent, not a sound to be heard from any of the bunks.

“Maybe there’s someone in the kitchen” he whispers to himself, turning and starting down the hall.

Lincoln reaches the kitchen and finds it empty. He turns to continue down the hallway but stops when he notices that the coffee pot is full.

He crosses the kitchen and finds the coffee still warm. “Well at least someone’s awake” he muses, pouring himself a mug before continuing on to look for the other sad soul who couldn’t sleep in.

As he nears the common room, he finally hears signs of life. He steps into the doorway and he sees that the tv is on, a video game he only vaguely remembers flashing on the screen. His eyes move to the couch where he spots Daisy with the controller in her hand.

“Good morning” he says quietly, moving around the side of the couch to sit next to her.

“It’s Saturday. It’s before 8am. I’m not asleep. I don’t think it can be considered a good morning” Daisy shoots back, her eyes still focusing on the game in front of her.

She plays a few more moments before the screen changes to a message that Lincoln could tell was not the outcome she’d been hoping for.

“You want in this round?” Daisy asks him, holding the other controller between them.

“Teach me how to play?” he asks in return, placing his mug safely on the table in front of them.

“You don’t know how to play Mario Kart? How is that even possible? Everyone knows how to play Mario Kart.” Daisy’s mouth is hanging slightly open and Lincoln shifts uncomfortably deeper into the couch.

“Well, we didn’t have video games at the Afterlife” he sighs. “And it’s not like I really had time to mess around before moving there either, what with the whole transition thing and all that. And then there was medical school and the hospital...” he trails off quietly.

“Oh yeah...” Daisy whispers, fidgeting with the buttons on the controller. 

“I’m not looking for pity, just a gaming lesson.” Lincoln flashes her a small smile and her mouth turns up as well.

“Right. That I can do. So the point of the game is simple, beat everyone else. This button makes you go and this is how you turn” she says pointing out the various buttons and nobs on the controller. “You got it?” she asks after a moment and Lincoln answers with a hesitant nod.

He loses the first race. Badly. And the second and the third. 

The seventh race though? He beats Daisy. She quits.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Static Quake + “This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.”

Daisy is crouched behind the island in the base kitchen when she hears the sound of approaching footsteps. She quietly takes a deep breath as she carefully adjusts her hold on her weapon. It’s a one of a kind, Fitz-designed silly string gun. Convincing him to actually make it is still her favorite accomplishment.

The footsteps stop and it sounds like her victim is getting coffee.

_This is it. Deep breath, aim, hold down the trigger._

Daisy springs from her hiding spot and screams. “Prepare to be silly stringed!”

“Who are- what the _hell_ Daisy?” the man in front of her screams as his coffee splashes across the floor between them.

“Crap.” Daisy lets go of the trigger. Her victim is far from covered in silly string but he is also far from being Hunter, her intended target.

“Lincoln I am so sorry” she says between stifled giggles. “That wasn’t meant for you.”

“Well I should hope not” Lincoln sighs looking through the drawers for a towel to clean up the mess they’ve both made.

“You were supposed to be Hunter” Daisy groans, dropping her gun to the counter.

“I’ll try and remember that next time I want coffee” Lincoln laughs, leaning down to wipe up the last of the coffee.

“I’m trying to prank him” Daisy says, her eyebrow quirking up in response to his attempt at a joke.

Daisy walks to the other side of the island and pulls a mug from the cabinet next to his head and then reaches for the coffee pot to pour each of them a fresh cup.

“So why exactly have you resorted to such drastic and- dramatic- measures?”

“He got me. Bad. I don’t want to talk about it.” Daisy sighs and leans back against the counter before taking a sip from her mug.

“I see” Lincoln smirks over the top of his own mug. “So what exactly was your plan here?”

“Well” Daisy starts, stepping forward to grab her gun, holding it between them before placing it back down beside her. “You pretty much saw the whole thing. Crouch behind the island and scare him when he came in. The gun shoots silly string as you can see” she laughs gesturing to the pink foam still covering his shoulder.

“This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. I know I haven’t seen all of your plans but I feel like that’s still a safe bet.”

“Hey that’s- well no it’s probably fair” Daisy laughs. “But you know? It would probably be more effective if I had some help. You in?”

“Of course I’m in. I’ll probably regret it later but yeah. I’m in.”

“Great. I’ll bet I can get Fitz to make another silly string gun if you want.” 

“Maybe I’ll just play lookout. I think that’s a major hole in your plan.”

“You’re no fun” Daisy smirks.

“But I am smart.” Lincoln says, finishing his coffee and placing his mug in the sink.

“Good point. You think Fitz will make another gun anyway?” Daisy asks, mirroring his movements a moment later.

“Your guess is as good as mine” Lincoln laughs leaning back against the counter again.

“I’m gonna go ask him.”

Daisy grabs her gun from the counter and quickly makes her way into the hallway leading to the lab wing.

“I am definitely going to regret this” Lincoln sighs, pushing himself to stand straight before slowly moving to follow Daisy’s quieting footsteps.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Fitzsimmons + "Have you lost your damn mind?"
> 
> I ended up making this one a bit of a companion piece to chapter 4 but they can both be read completely separately.

Jemma slowly makes her way through the hallways. It’s 1am and she can’t sleep. Hardly a new occurrence in the weeks since she came back from Maveth but frustrating nonetheless.

Talking to Fitz had seemed to help with that lately, even after their fight and well-. She had knocked on his bunk door but there had been no answer so she had decided to go and look for him.

Her first stop was the kitchen, a late night favorite for both of them. But that was empty too which is why she was now making her way into the lab wing.

She turns the corner so that she can finally see the smaller of the two labs. The glass walls let her see that there is indeed light coming from inside.

She stops when she is level with the first pane of glass. Inside, Fitz is hard at work, his back hunched low over some unseen project on the table in front of him. It is a sight that she is quite familiar with. They’d spent countless nights together in similar positions as they worked on a particularly frustrating problem or experiment. She was not particularly used to seeing him like this and knowing he hadn’t asked for her help, however.

She takes a deep breath. “No use in both of us being up and alone. I’m sure he just didn’t want to wake me” she sighs before starting toward the lab door.

Fitz stays focused on his work even as the doors click open and she begins to walk in. He only looks up once she is standing right behind his left shoulder.

“Jemma” Fitz exclaims. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question. Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Uh no” Fitz sighs, looking around. “Can’t say I do?”

“It’s past one” Jemma laughs stepping closer to the workbench to get a closer look at his project.

“Oh” Fitz laughs, leaning back and pushing his hands through his curls. “I must’ve lost track of the time.”

“Must have” Jemma smiles. “So what are you working on that could have you so enthralled?”

Fitz fumbles with the supplies on the workbench in an attempt to tidy them up. “It’s just a little something for Daisy.”

“It looks like a weapon. But what kind of ammunition could possibly be big enough to need this much space?” Jemma asks as she picks up the largest piece of the project.

“It’s not so much ammunition as-”

“As what, Fitz?” Jemma interrupts, her expression growing worried as she returns the now examined piece of equippment to the table.

“Silly string” Fitz sighs, his hands covering his face.

“And why would Daisy need a silly string gun?” Jemma asks, crossing her arms.

“To prank Hunter with” Fitz whispers looking back up at her.

“Have you lost your damn mind?” Jemma exclaims.

“What’s the problem Jem?” Fitz asks standing up to meet her eyes.

“You’re getting involved in a prank war between Hunter and Daisy, that’s what the problem is! Don’t you know better by know?”

“I’m not getting involved. I’m just-”

“Just making a weapon that Daisy is going to use to piss off Hunter” Jemma sighs.

“Well yeah.”

“And who do you think Hunter is going to blame when he sees that she’s used a one of a kind silly string gun to get back at him?”

“Shit.”

“So what are you going to do now?” Jemma asks, her hip moving to rest against the table again.

Fitz slumps back into his chair and rests his face in his hands a moment before speaking.

“Well I can’t very well leave Daisy in a lurch” he muses. “And Hunter really does deserve worse after what he did to her.” He pauses and looks up at Jemma before speaking again. “I think I have to finish it Jem.”

“I had a feeling you might say that” Jemma laughs, reaching behind them both for another chair and pulling it over next to his before sitting down. “Is there anything I might be able to help with? I couldn’t sleep either and I thought that maybe you would- and I could-”

“Of course, Jemma.” Fitz smiles at her and rests his hand on her knee for just a moment before he pulls it back. “I can always use your help. Two heads are better than one and all that.”

Jemma answers his words with a shaky smile, not having missed his anxiety about the situation.

“Right” she sighs. “So how far have you gotten?”

“Well see this here?” Fitz starts, showing her one of the pieces to the side of the main body of the weapon.

“Mhmm” Jemma muses, watching as he manipulates the component.

“I need to find a way to attach it here” Fitz says pointing to a spot on the gun.

Jemma scoots her chair forward so that she can lean over the table next to him like she had done so many time before. They start quietly talking over each other, the conversation one that would be understood by only them, and reaching for parts and tools over each other. It’s not exactly the same as it used to be but they both slowly settle into their old ways soon enough and they finally finish the silly string gun just before Daisy comes bouncing into the lab hoping for it just after dawn.


	6. Sunny Saturday Mornings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Fitzsimmons + "That's a good look on you."

Jemma hums quietly to herself as she makes her way along the hallway. She is still dressed her pajama bottoms and t-shirt, having just now left her bunk. It may have been weeks since she came back from Maveth, but she still feels like she can never get enough sleep.

She squints as she passes in front of a window and the bright, mid-morning sunlight fills her view. She takes another step forward out of the light and stops. She is now close enough to the kitchen to notice two things, a series of rather loud clangs and bangs and a certain not-so-pleasant smell, coming from the direction where she had been headed.

“Oh Daisy…” she sighs, certain that she is the cause of the commotion as she had been so many times before. 

Jemma takes a deep breath and starts moving again towards the kitchen, preparing herself to have to help clean up another of Daisy’s kitchen catastrophes.

Jemma finishes the short remaining piece of her trip to the kitchen but she stops short in her tracks when she enters the doorway.

Inside, it is not in fact Daisy. Instead, Jemma finds Fitz rushing around with a towel in his hand, muttering and covered in what looks to Jemma to be flour, with a thin stream of smoke coming from something in a pan on the stove. 

“You know? That’s a good look for you.” Jemma struggles to stifle the laughter threatening to push past her lips at the sight in front of her. 

Fitz stops suddenly at her words and his eyes spring upward to meet her own.

“Jemma” he exclaims. “You weren’t supposed to be up yet.”

“I didn’t realize that” Jemma says, accidentally letting loose a quick giggle. 

“Oh no” Fitz mumbles nervously. “I just meant that I hadn’t expected you yet. I’d planned to have all of this-” he trails off, looking around at the mess around him.

“I’m guessing cleaned is the word you’re looking for” Jemma responds with a soft smile.

“Yeah” Fitz sighs in return. “I’d planned to have all this cleaned up by the time you came in.”

“Did you do all this for me?” Jemma asks, moving slowly into the room to rest against a clean edge of the counter closer to him.

“Yeah. You’ve been seeming like you’re still really tired and I just thought that you might like-” he stops as he rests his hands behind his head for a moment before moving them to rest on the counter behind him..

Jemma surveys the collection of items spread across the counters more closely before answering.

“Pancakes? Oh Fitz! You really didn’t have to do that.” She smiles wider and softly rests her hand on top of his where it sits on the counter.

“I know I didn’t but I wanted to.” He moves his eyes away from hers to rest them on the spot where their hands are still together and Jemma can see his ears grow just a touch redder. 

“Thank you, Fitz. This is so very sweet. But might I ask what happened?”

“Oh well...” he laughs. “That’s where things got a little tricky. You see? I was trying to get the whipped cream just right on that stack over there” he says gesturing to a plate on the island “and well I guess I got distracted and I forgot that I’d already put another batch in the pan and well they burned.”

Jemma looks over to the stove and notices that the pancakes are still smoking in the pan.

‘And it would seem they still are” she laughs, moving quickly to remove the pan from the burner. “But what about the flour all over your shirt?” she asks, turning back around to face him.

“I think it’s better if I just don’t answer that” Fitz laughs, growing another shade redder. “I’ve mucked this all up, haven’t I?”

“Of course not!” Jemma exclaims, her smile returning to her face. “There’s still a perfectly good plate of pancakes here. And it’s even enough for us to share.”

“Are you sure?” Fitz asks.

“Course I am” Jemma laughs, pulling two forks out of a drawer in front of her. “Dig in” she says, offering him one of the fork as she leans her elbows on the counter between them, the other fork poised in her hand poised above the plate.

Fitz moves to mirror her position as Jemma cuts the first piece off of the pancakes between them. Their eyes meet and they both smile before really digging in to share breakfast like they had done so many mornings during their time at the academy, leaving the mess around them to deal with later.


	7. The Castle of Dromore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Fitzsimmons + "I didn't know you could sing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to listen to the song Jemma sings, you can find it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Tu0RJIZRrM

Fitz tosses and turns in his bunk. He is surrounded by darkness, having woken up suddenly from yet another nightmare. “He rolls over more slowly this time to examine the clock on the table beside his bed.

3:12 am.

He shoves off the blanket that now feels more like lead and pulls his legs to the side of bed and pushes himself to his feet.

“Maybe a cup of tea will do the trick” he sighs as he reaches for the jacket he tossed across the armchair the night before.

He makes his way to the door and squints as he pulls it open.

“I’m gonna have ta see about getting some dimmer bulbs for these safety lights” he grumbles, forcing himself out of his bunk and down the hallway.

Fitz makes his way slowly through the maze of hallways within the base on his way to the kitchen. He turns the final corner to find a soft yellow glow coming from inside accompanied by consistent, quiet sounds signaling that someone else is inside. He closes the distance to the door but stops before going inside.

Inside, he sees Jemma making her own cup of tea. Her back is turned to him as she watches the water coming to a boil. The fact that she is up this early making tea is not what made Fitz stop. Instead, it is what he hears. Jemma is singing.

Throughout all of the years he has known her, he has never witnessed this. She is singing something he doesn’t know but it sounds like a lullaby.

Fitz leans against the door frame to listen a bit longer before letting her know he is there. He listens to the sweet, soft notes she sings and watches as she sways lightly from side to side in time with the music.

“ _A little rest and then_

_The world is full of work to do_

_Sing hushabye lo la loo, low lan_

_Sing hushabye loo, la lo_ ” Jemma sings as she comes to what seems to be the end of the song. She pours some of the now heated water into a mug and adds the teabag before turning to retrieve the milk from the fridge, noticing Fitz when she does.

“Fitz” she exclaims, her hand flying to cover her mouth, as she stops walking. “How long have you been there?”

“Not too long, really” he responds as Jemma starts toward the fridge again. After a moment, he continues. “I didn’t know you could sing.”

Jemma puts the milk down on the counter and turns around. She moves her hands to rest against her neck as she tries to hide the blush she can feel making its way to color her face.

“Oh that?” she laughs, nervously. “That wasn’t anything really.”

“Stop it, Jemma” Fitz replies with a soft smile. “Don’t put yourself down. It was beautiful. What was it, though? I didn’t recognize it.”

“It was just a silly little lullaby my mum used to sing to me on nights when I couldn’t sleep.”

“A good choice for tonight then, it would seem.”

They both laugh softly at that.

“Would you like some tea as well, Fitz?” Jemma asks after a moment of silence. “There’s enough for two.”

“Yeah, thanks. That’s actually-”

“What you came here for” Jemma finishes for him.

“Exactly” Fitz smiles.

Jemma pulls the box of tea bags from the cabinet above her head while Fitz moves to retrieve a mug for himself from another cabinet across the kitchen. He brings it back and places it next to Jemma’s where she fills it with the rest of the still-boiling water.

They finish fixing their drinks in silence before moving to sit at the small table in the corner of the room.

“So what’s keeping you up?” Jemma asks quietly once they’ve both taken a sip of their tea.

“Oh, you know…” Fitz trails off. “I just had a- a nightmare.”

“Oh Fitz” Jemma sighs, reaching a hand out to rest it on his arm. “I’m so sorry. It doesn’t anything to with-”

“Stop Jemma” Fitz interrupts. “This is not your fault. Not at all. I’ve told you. What happened--there-- was not your fault. I made my choices.”

“I know you did, Fitz. But if it hadn’t been for me-”

“If it hadn’t been for you, Will would have had no chance at all. I went back to save him. There was no way that you could’ve known how impossible that would be.”

They both sit in silence for a moment, the air around them growing heavy. Fitz takes another sip of tea while Jemma leans back in her chair and pulls her knees tightly to her chest.

It is Jemma that finally breaks the silence.

“I know you’re right, Fitz. I really do. But I can’t help but wish that I could have changed what happened somehow.”

“I know Jemma. I wish the same thing.” He moves his hand to rest atop hers where it not sits on the table between them. “But it’s over and done now. We have to move on.”

“Whatever that means” Jemma sighs, looking down at the place where their hands still sit together.

“Well I know one thing we can count on it to mean” Fitz smiles.

“What’s that?” Jemma whispers, looking up to meet his eyes.

“That we’ll be in it together, just like we always have been.”

“Together” Jemma sighs. “Just like always.”

They fall silent again but this time it the quiet is easier, less tense. For just these moments, they are together and happy like they should be. In the backs of their minds, they know it can’t possibly stay like this forever, that something will have to change.

But neither of them cares much about this as they communicate silently as only they can and make a decision. They move together to the couch in the common room and settle on to it together. To get more sleep or not, they neither know nor care so long as they’re together.


	8. Just Like Old Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Static Quake + “I love you. I’m completely and utterly in love with you. Please don’t get married.”

Daisy sits on her bed, the shoe box she had just pulled out of her closet in front of her. The box has seen better days, the corners of the lid are squished inward and the only thing holding it all together is a rubber band.

She slowly stretches the rubber band and pulls it off, being careful not to pull too hard, before gently lifting the lid of the box. Inside she finds a long forgotten collection of memories, just the way she’d left them when she packed them up for the last time a few months ago. She removes one thing at a time; the stub from the last movie they saw together, the card from the cheesy bouquet of roses her bought her for Valentine’s Day that she never stopped making fun of him for, the picture of them from the photo booth from their first date. Each item she pulls out makes the ache in her chest grow deeper, the dull pain she’d learned to live with becoming sharper.

Daisy pauses when she sees a drop hit the photo. She gently wipes it away before moving her hand to her cheek finding the slowly falling tears she now knew she had been crying.

“I miss you, Lincoln,” she whispers, her voice barely audible even in the empty room.

She continues pulling out the pieces of the life she once knew before she lost him, each one drawing another tear from her eyes, until she reaches the last paper at the bottom of the box, his wedding invitation. She had packed it first, needed to bury it beneath the photos and memories that, while painful, couldn’t hurt her as much as this still does. It was a clear reminder that he had not only left her but he had found someone else.

Daisy stares at the paper, the scripted words glaring at her and turning her pain into anger as her thoughts begin to race. _Why should he get to be happy when she still breaks at just the mention of his name? Is he even happy? Does he still think about her like she remembers him?_

Daisy drops the pile of pictures in her other hand back into the box and, with the invitation still grasped tightly, she pushes herself to her feet and reaches for her keys before she can even really think through what she is doing.

She nearly runs out the door, leaving the lock open, and jumps into her car. She pulls out into the street and begins to make her way through town. It is only when she stops for the last time that she realizes she never should have made it with the way she drove, distant and distracted. She puts the car in park and lets her head fall back against the seat.

“What the hell am I doing?” she sighs before moving her head to look through the window toward the church she’d found at the address on the paper in her lap. Daisy straightens when she see’s Lincoln’s sister step out a side door.

“Jemma!” she calls, jumping out of the car. She watches as Jemma looks around for the owner of the voice before her eyes find Daisy.

“You should not be here,” Jemma says, her voice hushed as her face grows stern..

“Jemma, please,” Daisy rushes. “I just need to talk to him for a minute. _Please_.”

“You can’t, Daisy,” Jemma says stepping between Daisy and the door she had stepped out of.

“Why the hell not, Jemma?” Daisy spits, her voice growing loud enough to block the sound of someone moving on the other side of the door.

“Because he knows that you two didn’t work out and he has found a way to be happy even though he still loves you,” Jemma responds harshly.

Daisy steps back at her words and her eyes catch on the door behind her. She sees that Jemma is not the only one between her and the door anymore. Behind Jemma, stands Lincoln. Jemma turns when she sees Daisy staring and she sighs.

“I’m sorry, Lincoln,” Jemma whispers, turning to go back inside the church.

“Daisy, I…” Lincoln whispers, stepping down from the door to her level.

“Stop,” Daisy interrupts. “I love you. I’m completely and utterly in love with you. Please don’t get married.”

“But Daisy-”

“I said stop, you idiot.” Daisy laughs quickly, the action short and forced, before continuing. “I know I screwed up, ok. I know I hurt you and I still haven’t forgiven myself for that. But I love you.. And I have spent months putting myself back together.” Daisy pauses, her breath catching in her throat as she struggles through her speech. “I don’t expect you to give me another chance, to walk away from all of this,” she whispers, her voice breaking as she looks around them. “But I just- I needed to make sure that you knew how I felt.”

Lincoln looks down at the space between them, his hands coming up to cover his eyes.

“Daisy,” he finally whispers, his voice shaking. “What do you want me to do? I’m about to get married.! She’s in there getting ready!”

“I know, Lincoln! I know!” Daisy shouts, turning to step away from him. “Look… I should just go. I shouldn’t even be here. I’m sorry I came.” Daisy moves further away from him, walking quickly back toward the parking lot.

“Stop.” The voice behind her is quiet, barely louder than the traffic around them, but she hears it. And something inside of her listens to what it’s said.

She doesn’t turn to face him, instead watching his shadow on the ground as it melts into her own. Even as she feels his hand on her arm, she stays still. She breathes in slowly, deeply, and lets the air out as she feels her hands begin to shake.

“What are you doing?” Daisy whispers, her eyes still locked on their shadows.

“I don’t know,” Lincoln sighs.

Daisy finally turns toward Lincoln, holding her breath and keeping her eyes turned down. She looks up and when she meets his eyes, it feels likes her heart stops, like the world around them disappears and she is taken back to the last time she saw him. His eyes are welling up just like they were then, the tears held there threatening to escape, to betray the pain he is still trying so hard to bury inside him.

“I’m sorry,” she says again. This time her words are not even a whisper despite making the small space between them heavy.

Lincoln moves, beginning to close the already narrow space between them as he replies. “I know.”

Daisy tilts her head to lock her eyes more solidly onto his. She is distracted by the sight of a tear beginning to roll down his cheek and so she is surprised when his lips brush hers.

The kiss is brief, so quick and gentle that it is over before she is even sure it’s happening. She feels his hand brush her arm again and she leans into his touch just a moment before she feels it leave.

“Lincoln,” she sighs, her breaths shallow and quick.

“Wait here,” he whispers, tilting his head to capture her lips again in a kiss even shorter than the last.

Daisy opens her eyes to see Lincoln pulling the door to the church open and she lets out the breath she had been holding once it clicks closed behind him. She lets her head fall back as she stares at the sky, the fluid, white clouds making more sense to her than the last few minutes. She hears a group of guests behind her and she moves closer to the side of the building.

It feels like an eternity before she hears someone on the other side of the door. She takes a deep breath and holds it inside as she watches the door, hoping the universe isn’t playing a cruel joke on her and sending Jemma back outside to tell her Lincoln has started the ceremony. The footsteps inside stop and finally the door opens. Daisy begins to breathe again when Lincoln steps out from behind it.

“I’m not letting you turn this into some sort of runaway groom moment, ok?” Lincoln says, a slight smile forming on his tear-stained face.

“What,” Daisy blurts out.

“I talked to her. She certainly isn’t happy with me,” he stops as his voice breaks. She doesn’t miss the fact that another tear makes an escape. “I hurt her,” he continues after a few deep breaths, “but she told me to go, that she wants me to be happy.”

“Lincoln,” Daisy sighs, pulling her hand away when he tries to take it in his. “Only do this if it is what you really want. You can still go back in there and go through with this.”

“No… I can’t, Daisy,” he says softly, stepping forward and grasping both of her hands firmly in his own. “Jemma was telling the truth. I love you. I never stopped loving you, not really, not deep down. I can’t ignore that.”

Daisy closes the last bit of space between them and he captures her lips again. This kiss is different, deeper, slower. Daisy can hear the sound of people flooding out of the church behind them but she forgets them when she feels Lincoln’s hand rest on her hip pulling her still closer. She feels another wave of tears fall down his cheeks and she reaches her hand up to wipe them away.

As they break away from each other, they can hear the bell in the church’s steeple chime. Neither of them moves very far, his head tilting down so their foreheads can rest against each other. Daisy breathing is heavy, the quick pace of it falling in line with the movements of his chest before her eyes.

“So what do you say we get out of here?” she laughs, her first genuine laugh in longer than she can remember.

“What do you have in mind,” he replies, the look on his face mirroring hers.

“No clue. But anywhere has to be better than here right about now.”

Lincoln drops one of her hands as he turns to stand beside her.

“My car is this way,” Daisy says pointing back the the parking lot.

“Good,” he laughs. “I didn’t drive.”

“Idiot,” Daisy laughs, pushing her elbow into his side as they began to walk away from the church.


	9. I'll Be Home For Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitzsimmons + "I'll be home for Christmas"

Canceled.

Who knew that one little word could send a person’s world crashing down around them? Fitz looks away from the flight board and over to Jemma and the clear disappointment he can see written on her face makes his heart sink. She’d been looking forward to seeing her family for weeks.

“It’s okay, Jem,” he says. “I’ll fix this.” He quickly squeezes her shoulder as he turns to make his way toward the counter next to the door they were supposed to be using to get on their plane in a few minutes.

He talks to the gate agent there; he talks to the representative for the airline; he talks to anyone he can. But none of them can get him and Jemma back to England.

He finds Jemma among the crowds of travelers, her phone held to her ear as she paces between the seats in front of the next gate over. He does not want to go back and tell her that there’s no way she’ll see her parents this Christmas. He takes a deep breath when he sees her hang up the phone and he begins the short walk to her.

She smiles when she sees him coming, her faith in him still strong.

“I’m so sorry Jem,” he says stopping in front of her. 

“What for?” she asks looking up at him.

“Nothing’s leaving for a few days,” he sighs, taking her hand. “I tried everything but I couldn’t get you home for Christmas.”

Jemma lets out a small sigh before reaching up to place a soft kiss on his cheek. 

“Who said I won’t be home for Christmas?” She laughs as Fitz pulls a face at her question. “I most definitely will be home for Christmas,” she assures him squeezing his hand gently. “As long as I’m with you, I’m always home.”

Fitz cannot help the smile that takes over his face at her revelation and Jemma’s smile grows to match when she meets his eyes again.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” Fitz asks gently cupping her chin in his free hand.

“You have,” she laughs. “But I will never get tired of hearing you say it.”

“I love you so much,” he replies before reaching his head down to gently cover her lips with his own. They break apart after a few moments but they do not move far, Jemma resting her forehead on his.

“Let’s go home,” Jemma says as they separate and Fitz squeezes her hand in agreement before releasing it to gather their bags so that they can head back to the base.


	10. Little Icebuckets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitzsimmons + Gloves for Christmas

Jemma looks up from the suitcase she is meticulously packing when she hears the door to the bedroom click closed behind her.

“Hey,” she says as Fitz closes the small distance between her and where he has just entered the room.

“How’s the packing coming?” he asks looking over her shoulder at the scene once again holding her attention.

“Just about done,” Jemma muses, reaching for one of the smaller bags laid out across their bed and placing it securely inside her suitcase.

“Well you might want to take just a moment and stop packing,” Fitz teases stepping so that he can face her better, “because I’ve got one more thing you’re going to need for our trip.”

“Fitz!” Jemma exclaims as she spots the small bag he had been hiding. “We said we weren’t going to do presents this year.”

“I know,” he replies holding the package out between them. “It’s just a little something I thought we might need while we’re gone.”

“We might need…?” Jemma muses as she grabs the bag from his hands and tears the paper out of it.

She looks up at him quizzically when she reveals a soft pair of gloves resting inside the gift bag.

“Fitz?” she says when he simply stares back at her. “You do remember we’re going to the Seychelles, right? You know, the ones just a few degrees off the equator?”

“Indeed I do,” he laughs, taking the gift bag from her hands and placing it on the bed so he could take both of her hands in his own. “But with these little ice buckets,” he says pulling her hands up as if to underscore his point, “I thought we might still need them.”

Jemma laughs holding her hands to her face and shivering as her cold fingers paint goosebumps across her skin.

“Are they always this cold?” Jemma asks as Fitz reaches up to take her hands again.

“Always,” he laughs.

“Maybe I’d better pack them just in case,” she says reaching down to place the gloves snugly in the center of her suitcase.

“I think it might be best,” Fitz teases, placing a soft kiss on the top of his partner’s head before helping her pack the last of her things.


	11. A Tradition All Our Own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bus Kids (+ Lincoln) + Family Traditions

Lincoln blinks and rubs at his eyes as he walks down the dimly lit base hallway toward the kitchen. He silently curses himself for once again not bringing a bottle of water back to his bunk when he called it a night.

What the hell, he thinks as turns the corner to find light streaming out of the common room. “Who is still-?” he starts before he is interrupted by a voice calling from inside.

“Lincoln? Is that you?” Daisy calls at a volume that really is better suited to an earlier time of day.

He slowly pokes his head around the door to the common room and what he sees confuses him. Daisy, Jemma, and Fitz are all sitting on the floor with pillows and blankets splayed out around them and giant mugs in their hands.

“C’mon in, mate,” Fitz says, gesturing to an opening on the floor.

Lincoln hesitates a moment before slowing making his way to sit next to Daisy.

“Here,” Jemma says, handing him an empty mug. “I’ll go heat up some more water.”

Jemma makes her way into the kitchen around the corner and Lincoln takes a moment to look at the scene around him. The floor is covered in pillows and the chairs have been moved next to the couch and someone has used them to make a fort just big enough to sit under.

“What is all of this…?” Lincoln asks Daisy, gesturing around them.

Daisy doesn’t respond at first- taking a sip of her cocoa. “Just our little version of a family Christmas get together,” she says, her smile growing.

“Jemma and I started the tradition,” Fitz adds.

“All the way back in our academy days,” Jemma says from the doorway drawing everyone’s attention. “We were stuck stateside for the holidays, the only ones in our dorm, and so we decorated made the study lounge, made a fort like this, and spent the whole of Christmas Eve night telling stories about our families and everything we were missing,” Jemma finishes emptying a cocoa packet into Lincoln’s mug before pouring in hot water from the kettle in her other hand.

“We stayed up and opened presents right at midnight,” Fitz adds. “And then we did it again next year even though we could’ve gone home.”

“And then when it came time for my first Christmas as part of the team, they let me in on their little tradition,” Daisy sighs shooting Fitz and Simmons a smile each in turn before shuffling a little closer to Lincoln.

“And we told Daisy to invite you this year,” Jemma rushes to add causing Lincoln to look down at Daisy’s now reddening face.

Daisy turns away from his gaze and stares down at her drink.

“I wasn’t sure you’d want to come, what with you not wanting to be a part of Shield and all,” she finally admits quietly.

Lincoln gazes down at Daisy as she slowly turns to meet his gaze. He can see that her cheeks have reddened slightly and her eyes look timid. He sighs quietly before he finally responds.

“I’m here for you,” he says, resting his hand gently on Daisy’s knee.. “All of you,” he adds looking at Fitz and Simmons. “I may not like Shield… but I want to be a part of this team.”

“Well then,” Jemma says smiling. “It’s your turn to tell a story.”

“Yeah,” Daisy adds, finally perking up. “What’s the craziest thing that ever happened during one of your family holidays?”

Lincoln tells a story about getting locked out in the snow while the Christmas dinner burned- the whole time growing more at home inside that small common room.

They open presents as the sun rises- there’s even a little box for Lincoln under the tinsel tree. There is no name to tell him who it is from but he can’t miss Daisy’s smile when he opens the box to find a Pikachu keychain inside.

“It’s just just like you,” she teases when he catches her staring.

Jemma makes them all breakfast after they open gifts and they all fall asleep in the midst of their cinnamon roll and pancake haze only to be woken up when Hunter comes bounding in to ask when dinner would be ready.


	12. The Birds and the Bees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitzsimmons + I think you might be pregnant.

Jemma leans her head against the cold, tile wall behind her and rubs at her eyes thinking that maybe what she had just seen wasn’t real and it would vanish if only she thought hard enough.

“Jemma...” she can hear Daisy whisper from beside her as a hand comes to rest lightly on her shoulder. “What are you thinking...?”

Jemma does not answer her friend, instead, sighing and moving her hands so that they cover her entire face.

“Are you okay, Jems?” Daisy asks and Jemma can hear her friend settling onto the ground beside her.

“I just don’t know what’s happened...” Jemma sighs as she finally uncovers her face and turns to look at Daisy.

“Well... I’m not the one with a biology degree...” Daisy jokes dryly, “but I think you might be pregnant.”

“I know _that_ , Daisy,” Jemma huffs, a laugh escaping with the words despite the distress that still covers her face. “I just don’t know how it’s happened...”

“Jemma Anne Simmons!” Daisy exclaims, her words colored with an affected tone of shock. “Did your mum not talk to you about the birds and the bees?”

“Oh Daisy...” Jemma sighs, her growing frustration with her best friend showing in her voice.

“Hey you’re the one that said it, not me,” Daisy says holding her hands up between them as if defending herself.

“I just meant that I thought we’d been more careful than that. I mean we-”

“Stop right there,” Daisy interrupts. “If you ever want to see me again, you will not finish that sentence.”

Jemma ignores her friend’s outburst as she closes her eyes to think again. “I’m gonna have to tell Fitz...” she finally whispers after a few moments.

“Yeah... that would probably be important. How are you gonna do it?”

“That is a really good question...”

-/-

Later that day, Jemma paces across the kitchen of her and Fitz’s apartment as she waits for him to return from working with Mack. She stops in her tracks when she hears the sound of his key in the lock. She takes a deep breath and then he opens the door.

“Hey Jem,” he says with a smile when he sees her. “I thought you were planning to work late today.”

Jemma leans up against the edge of the kitchen island for support as he crosses the entry way to stand on the opposite side of it.

“I came home early,” Jemma mumbles. “Wasn’t feeling too well.”

“Oh no,” Fitz soothes, walking around the island to place a soft, lingering kiss on her forehead. “I know you said something about feeling off yesterday, as weel. I hope it’s nothing too serious,” he says when he pulls back, replacing their lost contact with a gentle hand on her arm.

“Well no...” Jemma starts, looking away from his eyes to where his thumb is rubbing small circles across her sweater. “But it is something we need to talk about...”

“What are you getting on about?” Fitz asks softly, the pace of his words betraying the worry he always tries to hide from her. “Jemma, are you alright?” He gently reaches his other hand between them to pull her chin back up so he can meet her eyes. “You’re starting to worry me.”

“I’m fi- well _we’re_ fine rather...” Jemma finally whispers.

“We’re...?” Fitz asks, puzzled by her choice of words. “Well, of course, I’m fine, Jem. We are talking about you.”

“Not me and _you_...” Jemma trails off. She takes a deep breath before continuing, her eyes locked onto his. “Me and... the baby...”

“The...” Fitz stares at Jemma, unable to say more. His eyes break away from hers to flit down to her stomach, lingering there a moment before he meets her eyes one again. “Baby...?”

“Surprise,” Jemma says quietly, tensing as she waits for him to respond.

Fitz pulls her into a tight embrace, lifting her feet off the floor and twirling them both slowly. “Are you serious?” he asks after he returns her to the floor. “Are we really having a baby?”

Jemma cannot help but mirror the smile that has taken over his face. “So you’re happy?”

“Of course I am, Jemma!” Fitz exclaims, reaching his hands up to place them on either side of her face before kissing her deeply. “Aren’t you...?” he asks nervously after he pulls back.

“I am,” Jemma asserts quickly, seeing his body relax at her words. “I was just nervous about how you’d take it. I know we both want to have kids but we’d always talked about waiting a bit longer so I wasn’t-” Jemma rambles until Fitz cuts her off with another quick kiss.

“I love you so much, Jemma Simmons,” Fitz assures her. “And I am ready to have a child with you,” he says as he places a hand gently against her stomach, “even if it’s coming a little earlier than we’d planned.”

Jemma closes the small distance between them and pulls him close so that she can rest her head against his chest. “I love you too, Leopold Fitz,” she says, smiling at the face she can imagine him pulling at the sound of his first name, “and I cannot wait to have a baby with you.”

“Just promise me one thing,” Fitz says, wrapping his arms around her. “If it’s a boy, we won’t name him Leopold?”

“Deal,” Jemma says as she settles against his chest so that she can better hear his heart beating inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See the next chapter of this work for a follow up to this prompt.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FitzSimmons + "Shh... I'm sleeping."  
> A follow up to chapter 12 but can also be read alone

“Jemma.”

Jemma can hear Fitz’s whisper clearly and she sighs silently, her hopes that his rustling would quiet and would go back to sleep now dashed.

“Shh… I’m sleeping,” she whispers back, her eyes still closed.

“I know you’re currently suffering from a _small_ bit of baby brain,” Fitz teases quietly, “but did you really think that would actually work?”

Jemma pushes against the mattress below her so she can roll onto her back before moving to sit up against their headboard.

“Not really, but a girl can hope?” she jokes back as she settles into this new position.

“Do you think…” Fitz sighs and Jemma can see his brow furrow as he stares down at their bed.

“Oh Fitz,” Jemma soothes, placing her hand on top of where his own rests on the sheets. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you think… that I… can really be a good father?” He avoids her eyes until he is finished speaking but when he meets her gaze, he finds a small tear running down her cheek. He moves to speak but Jemma holds a finger up between them before he can.

“ _Of course_ you are going to be a good father. You’re going to be an _amazing_ father.”

“But I never had a- I don’t know how…” he sighs, looking down to where their hands 

“Of course you know how. Look-” she says forcefully when he tries to interrupt her. “You may not have had a perfect father, but you know what you wanted him to be.”

“So…” Fitz asks flatly.

“So… you have the biggest heart of anyone I know. And the fact that you asked me this question at…” she pauses to look at the clock beside the bed, “3:24 in the morning shows me how much you already care about this baby. So if the smartest, most caring man I know can’t figure out how to love his child, then everything I know is a lie.”

“Smartest, huh?” Fitz jokes, a small smile finally breaking through his worried expression.

“Smartest _man_ , I believe I said,” she teases back as they both move to settle a little lower on the bed. “I’ve still got one more Ph.D,” she adds causing them both to laugh.

“Oh I remember,” Fitz chuckles as Jemma lowers her head to rest on his chest. “Have I ever told you how much I love you, Jemma Simmons?” he whispers, looking down to find her eyes already closing.

“Once or twice, I believe,” she sighs, shifting beside him.

“Shall I tell you again?” he asks, aware that she is already nearing sleep.

“Mmhmm,” she sighs, and he can feel her rubbing soft circles on his chest with her thumb for just a moment before he senses the tell-tale change in her breathing.

“My love for you is wider than the universe,” he whispers as he feels her movements slow. “Wider than the distance that separated us for six months, and more complex than the framework that tried to keep me from you,” he finishes knowing she is asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 in the next chapter


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitzsimmons + Bring your pretty little butt over here.  
> A follow up to chapters 12 and 13 but can also be read on its own

Jemma purses her lips slightly before puckering them into the mirror. She leans back to inspect the outcome of all her work. 

“Perfect,” she whispers as her eyes roam over the curls that now frame her face before flitting over her makeup.

It’s their first time really going out since Daniel was born, fancy parties are not common in the spy life unless one is attending them undercover. Somehow she thinks it’s more fun to get dressed up for a party when she’s actually an invited guest.

“Jemma,” she hears Fitz call from outside the bathroom, “come see your handsome men all dressed up.” An hour ago, she had jumped up when she heard signs of Daniel waking up but Fitz had forced her into their bedroom to get ready instead. As much as she had relished that time alone, she is worried about just what she is going to find when she opens that door.

Jemma gets up from her vanity and crosses the small bathroom, pauses a second and then opens the door- and she laughs.

Fitz is standing at the end of their bed- dressed in her favorite suit with the tie that matches his eyes- and in his arms, Daniel looks like a miniature version of his father with a shirt to match Fitz’s tie and a tiny black waistcoat.

“Hey! What’s so funny?” Fitz asks, bouncing slightly as Daniel gets a little fussy.

“Nothing, love,” Jemma says quietly, leaning against the door frame. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

“What? Didn’t think I could dress my own son without mucking it up?”

“I _never_ said that,” Jemma says, holding her hand up to cover her growing smirk.

“Mhmm. You didn’t have to,” Fitz grumbles even as his smile gives him away.

“I’m sorry,” Jemma sighs. “Now bring your pretty little butt over here so I can kiss you.”

“Are you talking to me or Daniel?” Fitz asks, making faces at his son.

“Well…” Jemma shrugs.

“Alright, alright,” Fitz sighs. “Let’s see if our little guy can make it on his own,” he coos, bouncing Daniel in the air before setting him carefully on his own feet and pointing him toward Jemma. “Can you walk to Mama, Daniel? Walk to Mama,” Fitz whispers, keeping his hands steady until Daniel moves to wobble across the small distance between them.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Jemma cheers quietly as she bends down to open her arms to her son. “Look at our little walker go!” she pretends to yell as he topples into her arms before she peppers his small cheeks with light kisses. “He’s growing so fast,” she laments, meeting Fitz’s eyes as they both rise to their feet.

“He looks more like you every day,” Fitz smiles, coming to stand next to Jemma so that he can put his arm around her.

“Well scientifically speaking-” Jemma starts before Fitz cuts her off with a kiss of his own. “Well, excuse me,” she huffs after he pulls away.

“I believe I was asked for a kiss,” he explains. “Besides, you’ve explained that bit of science before, remember?” he chides as he turns to the bed to retrieve their coats.

“Oh, we’d better get going,” Jemma says, ignoring his question. “If we don’t leave now, we’ll be late for the party.”

“Can’t have that can we?” Fitz asks, his attention returning to Daniel. “We wouldn’t want to mess up Mummy’s reputation for promptness, now would we?”

“Oh, Fitz,” Jemma sighs. “Now can we please go?”

“Just one more thing,” Fitz says, pulling Daniel back into his arms.

“And what’s that?”

“You look absolutely, beautiful, Jem. I just had to make sure I told you that before we left.” Jemma blushes at his words and she smiles as Daniel babbles something in her direction. “I believe that was him agreeing with me,” Fitz laughs.

“I think he was actually commending you for how you dressed him,” Jemma replies.

“So does that mean you’ll let me dress him more often?” Fitz jokes, taking her arm in his own and leading her out into the hallway.

“Don’t count on it,” Jemma says before catching Daniel’s eyes and winking.


End file.
